


Hedges

by ShrugAbug



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - 'Supernatural' World is known, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Familiars, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Magic, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-04-19 21:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrugAbug/pseuds/ShrugAbug
Summary: -This was fine. This was going to end fine.-Lance lives in a world of witches. Well, Hedges, Mystics, and the ever enchanting (literally, they enchant stuff) Lovers. Now, it doesn't seem like much, but it really is. Since his sister decided it would be fun to contract Lycanthropy, he's the one the family sent out to buy something to -hopefully- get rid of the darn thing. So, yeah, he's doing great, especially when his magic starts acting up.But since the cities police force, the Galra, have decided to start a curfew and drag people to look for magical jewelry, he figures it's all alright. Nothing could go wrong. But it does. It very much does.(Summary will probably change once I get my crap together)





	1. Chapter 1

Allura Altea, 1239 L.E (Lotus Era)

The magic number is five. Really, I’ve decided it’s a curious aspect, as we only have two types of witches. Mystics and Hedges. Of course, there’s the Charmers, but I doubt they will ever quite become a full branch. They just don’t seem very… diverse, compared to the others. But, there’s always the possibility the might eventually mount up to something. Maybe someone who identifies as a Charmer will qualify. I’m not sure for what, but maybe they will.

My father, Alfor, says I have to start keeping a journal. He loves history, something neither I nor my mice can really comprehend. He said something about making it a primary source, something I doubt will be very important in the great scheme of things. I love and respect him, I really do, but I’m not focused on history. More on running this kingdom. 

He also says to tell about our system. As if it could change in the coming years.

So yes, the magic number is five. There are five paladins. One head, two arms, two legs. It’s a functioning body. Well not really, as there aren’t any organs involved. But it works in the mind. Anyways, a terrible thing will always come in threes. Triplets. Now, they don’t always end up treacherous, but many things involving threes always involves pain. The bite of a Lycan and the three possible Morphs. The cover of the old necromancers. I suppose I’m pulling for strings right now, but I can’t quite remember my lessons. But, it’s a known fact, that three is the witching number. A rather humorous name for it, since most are witches these days, but it still rattles me. 

Four is the middle. A lot like Hedge witches, who straddle the line of opposites. Four can be good, it can be bad, or it can be non-committal. Eventually, I’ll have to explain the types of witches. But four is more or less… a median. That’s a way to say it. If there’s four, be on the lookout, but also glad. In my opinion, four is less than three. You’ll never know what you get. 

\----------

 

The witch only accepted payment in the form of years. 

A person wouldn’t be be able to tell that her business was almost as bad as it came, as her hair was long and shiny, and few strands of silver highlighted it. Her face was almost devoid of wrinkles, and she would always say it was because of this face cream she bought from her old friend in the potion business. She would always talk about her friends, about the one that owned this business, the one who had impressed this man. She seemed so proud of them. Her eyes would welcome you, and a soft smile would pull at her mouth. 

The woman appeared in all ways to be marvelous, but because of her practice she was as dark as they came. Instead of being the nice, middle aged woman she appeared, her deceiving wiles would make her seem to be innocent. When in fact, she had sat back and taken from others in a transaction that could never be taken back. Instead of paying in the normal currency of silver, gold, copper, and the occasional cheek kiss, she took lives and the things that defined them. 

Now, a person might think of assassins when you say something along those lines. In this case a person might be correct, but not in the way they suspect. A buyer wasn’t indentured, they weren’t put in her service to call upon her every year, they weren’t disposed upon for money. No, she took the years from their soul, taking in a dark form of payment. It was an idea that was exiled from the mind, an abhorrent defying of all laws of nature. But when you had magic to use, laws of nature didn’t apply to you. 

It was supposedly an illegal practice, banned after multiple unfortunate souls had gone from prime ages to withered husks worthy of the shimmering pyramids. But it was obvious that they couldn’t stop her, centuries had made an abuser powerful beyond comprehension. The witch, of course, had to know the practice was one that could end in death, but rules didn’t apply when you had seen over six score years. In the end, though, the information would not be applicable to the current situation. For instead of going through a door coated with dripping, wooden beads, Lance McClain entered one that was a dark, non-beaded door. 

The door was a brown, greenery creeping down the edge of the frame. It was to a different witches store, one that didn’t take years of your life to apply to their own. Instead, it merely took the normal currency, and maybe a few cents consisting of dried goat tongue- you had to get your ingredients from somewhere. Most witches would tell you that they never went gathering, they just told their clients that it was part of the deal. Most of the time it worked. The store belonged to a family with the surname of Holt, Mystic witches who were known to sell the occasional Lover artifact. They were also skilled in making potions, something that wasn’t quite rare in the witch community, but wasn’t quite common either. Usually the creation of magical items was left to the Hedges who didn’t have a notable power. No opposite standing that was too large. 

And Lance needed a potion. His sister, Veronica McClain was currently sick with Lycanthropy. There were different types of it, and his family hoped and prayed to the Seven that she only had Omegamorph. The other two types, Beta or Alphamorph would require attention the family couldn’t afford. Money, ingredients. The cures to the types of Lycanthropy were always expensive. Of course, they could try to help her control the changes, but that would be dangerous. For the people trying to help and the witch going through the change. Sometimes the expensive cures were cheaper than the damage a bitten would do. 

His sister had also been bitten only a while ago, not nearly long enough for the signs of her Morph to appear. It was a fact that had his family on edge, not looking forward to the full moons coming up in a few days. But, even if Lance thought it was ridiculously stupid to already be buying a cure, -seriously, what the actual crap mom- he cared about his family with all of his heart. He was, in little words, a family man. Except not a man, more of a mildly adult-ish teenag- yeah, he was gonna stop those thoughts. He didn’t need to worry about his lanky self right now. That wasn’t important. 

When he entered the store, a small smile pulled at his lips at the feeling of the establishment. There was a table pushed to the wall, with a register and tip jar in front of it. Behind it, a whiteboard with chalk permanently staining the back had tables of the services provided in the area. There were payments and haggling prices you could use to create a base of what the transaction would be. The other parts of the room had hanging plants with their names hanging from cards, jars of substances, tarots, and anything you could want. The shelves that stood pressed together had rows of potions in bright bottles, with their names pasted on the front. A bell tinkled overhead, charmed to ring once, even if it still moved or whispered. 

A small teenager walked out of the door, her hair in disarray and her eyes hidden behind large, circular glasses. Everything about her screamed brown, from her light brown hairs, to her brown eyes. She looked up at Lance and frowned, the corners of her mouth tilting down. Then she straightened, and spoke. “I’m Pidge Holt, welcome to the store. If you need any help, you can talk to me or the familiar in the corner.” She gestured to a corner, her hand flapping in disinterest at the barn owl that sat perched atop one of the shelves. The shelf itself was cleared, and merchandise that could be sold crammed onto the shelf under it. 

The barn owl was suspiciously angry looking. Lance wouldn’t admit it though, it was cute in it’s own, ‘I’ll freaking bite your face off if you try to steal something, try me. I’m looking for action’ kind of way. It’s heart-shaped face had colors on it that looked like angry eyebrows. He was hooked, lined, and sinkered with this owl. Lance also thought his sister’s familiars, two rats who went by the name of ‘Dum’ and ‘Dee’ were absolutely adorable too. Even if they were unneutered. Yeah, okay, maybe he was a little weird, but Lance had kind of decided that anyone would talk to him would learn this. It was, in his own, mental way, a ploy to get the people who would be freaked out out of the picture as fast as possible. 

Lance eyed her, before making his way over to the potions. There was a sign, a piece of wood with chipping black paint on it that said, ‘Potions made by Lovers and Mystics! Buy 1 get 1 free c:’. He furrowed his brow, turning to look at Pidge. She was picking at her nails, collecting dirt on a finger before flicking it away. 

“Is this really Lover enchanted? Because, if so, cool.” He asked, turning away to look at the potions. Narrowing his eyes, he found an entire shelf dedicated to just diseases and the likes. There was Vampirism, Infection Cures, Fire Feet, and some cures to diseases he hadn’t heard of. 

“Yeah. We pay a Lover to enchant them. And yeah, they’re cool I guess. But they kind of look insane when the enchant something.” Pidge replied, walking over to where he was. “What’re you looking for?”

“Cure for Lycanthropy.”

Pidge whistled, the air coming out in a small hiss between a gap in her two front teeth. “Damn. Haven’t had an order for one of those come in. It’s been a long time. Didn’t know the wolves still had it in them. When did they get bitten?”

“Two weeks ago. She’ll probably change with the full moons.” Lance sighed, bringing his fingers up and clutching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what to do about it. We can get a solution for Omega, but I don’t know what we’ll do if she shows Beta or Alpha. It’s pretty stressful.”

Pidge nodded, reaching around and pulling a bottle out. On the front of it, the paper pasted to it said, ‘Lycanthropy! Omega cure!’ She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s a shame that the cure to it is so expensive. Vampirism doesn’t even come close. The ingredients are so hard to come by. It’s terrible. My parents have to talk to clients they haven’t spoken to in years.”

Lance looked at her, throwing his hands to the side. “I know! Seriously, she couldn’t have even got a vampire to bite her? Instead she got bit by a newly turned werewolf who didn’t know what they were doing! What the crap?” His voice had raised an octave, and he had begun to talk with his hands. Sarcasm was evident, and it dripped through his voice like a weapon coated with poison. His eyes glinted, contrasting emotions playing out. 

Pidge nodded sagely, turning to him. “How about this, you can get this potion for half off. All I’m gonna need is for you to run an errand. It’ll be fast, I swear. Thoughts? Trust me, it’ll be an easy errand.”

Lance smirked, his face falling into a comfortable motion. “Depends on what the errand is.”

“One, that’s disgusting. Two, the potion will cost one hundred without it.”

“I’ll take the errand.”

“Okay, it could’ve involved some dungeon type of shit, but it doesn’t, so congratulations.” “

Lance raised his eyebrows for emphasis. This statement needed emphasis, no matter what his Chemistry teacher had told him. It was so worth the principal’s trip. “Kinky.”

“Yeah, okay. Shut up. So what you’re going to do is be my delivery man. I’ll give you a bag, an address and expectations of you to get there. The man you’ll be delivering to has my number, he’ll text me when he gets it. Don’t think you can skimp this out. I don’t care if you think you can use your magic to get out of this. You can’t. The bag you’ll be delivering is charmed, when you’re holding it you have to deliver, and it can only be held through skin contact. Otherwise it becomes very heavy. The Lover knew what they were doing when they enchanted it. Here’s the address.” Pidge spoke quick and efficiently, silencing every question he began to think. Then she handed him a slip of paper, and nodded. “I’ll be heading to the backroom. Stay here, or Neswig will attack.”

The owl hooted from before, atop his perch of a shelf filled with mishaps. The hoot sounded suspiciously menacing. 

Lance fiddled with his fingers, glad that the potion wouldn’t cost as much as his family had been planning. Pidge was right, when she said the ingredients for the potion was ridiculously expensive. You needed a type of wolfsbane that only grew in caves, and even then it was rare. There were some witches though, that had planters and rooms to mimic a cave, but the wolfsbane would come out weaker than usual. It was hard work.

Really, Veronica just should have gotten bit by a blood sucker. It would make their lives so much easier. 

When Pidge came out, she was carrying a bag that was obviously full. It bulged in places, but it didn’t appear it would break. When she saw him, standing there, she sighed in relief. “For a moment I thought you would run away. You were never this quiet in school.”

Lance paused. “School?”

Pidge looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah. We went to the same one. Even when you were alone you would just,” she gestured wildly with a free hand.

“Oh.” Lance replied, quiet. He felt bad for missing her. He was constantly skimming over details, never really taking everything in. It was and wasn’t his fault. When he was younger he had a speech that he would say to prove his point as how, no, it does not involve him not taking his meds that morning back off- and he was getting off topic. Again. In his own head. Skill. 

She shrugged. “I was in your year, but that was only because I had skipped two. I didn’t talk to you, because our circles never really met. It doesn’t matter, man.”

He shrugged, picking at his shirt. Pidge handed him the bag and then eyed him over again. “You sure you have the address?” she nodded when he took the paper out of his jacket’s pocket and flashed it. 

“Alright. Just tell Keith that Pidge sent you. He can be a little hostile at first, but once you get to know him… he’ll still be a little emo jerk. Good luck, though.” Pidge said, and then he was being shooed out of the store and one his way to a complete strangers house. This was fine. This was going to end fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Okay, this was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea.
> 
> Now, I'm not sure why I started writing this fic. All I know is that I got 2000 words out when I while ago I could barely bring out 1000. And I think I've improved my writing, which, A+ to me. How are you feeling me now, old ELA teacher that used to frown at my hand writing? I'm doing stuff now, and it isn't my homework.
> 
> Oh, and since Allura is in the L.E (which ended 5000 years ago) it means her journal would be an artifact. Or, a primary source. It's too bad only one person has it. Currently though, it's the year 4998 D.E, or Dandelion Era.


	2. In Which Lance Tries, But Ultimately Doesn't Try Hard Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pebbles, Men With Fake Arms, and Gloves

Allura Altea, 1239 L.E (Lotus Era)

There’s something to be said about the two types of witches. Of course, as I mentioned earlier there’s the Charmers, but they’re so small and so weak that they don’t really count for anything though. However, contrary to what I said earlier in this notebook, I do believe they could be dangerous. However, as my ideas are shifting, it does not appear that my kingdom shares the same thoughts. 

To start with our two branches, we have Hedges. Hedges are the dividing line. Black and white, life and death, lies and the truth. They can be strong, or weak. For instance, there’s records of Hedges who have been the dividing line of harmony and discord, practically gods among mortals. But at the same time, many of them are in the middle. Cats and dogs, boys and girls (it only includes those who identify as that gender, and appears to ignore those who do not name themselves as a gender). There’s weak ones though, like red and blue, (oddly enough, those colors are not opposites though, on the spectrum. I wonder why it is considered opposites? Could it have something to do with elements?) Hedges are considered a fine line between the gods and children. I wonder if someone could be a Hedge for gods and mortals.

Sadly, though, many Hedges refuse to share how their powers work.

Our second is the Mystics. Seers, tellers, world and mind manipulators. For some reason, there appears to be branches within this own branch. Some of them can see the workings of the universe, all the possible futures and how the threads of the universe weave together in a loom. Those are the Seers and Tellers of the Mystics. Or, at least, that’s how I see them. In truth, there is not actual, all around agreed upon name. The world and mind Manipulators however, are still Mystics even though they differ greatly.

The mind Manipulators deal with illusions and other aspects and ideas, and how the world is perceived by their victims or clients. I’ve seen these types of witches go into types of.. Pleasure houses, I suppose. The world Manipulators control the elements, but not the common four. You can have a Plant Mystic, a Sand Mystic. Really, I believe there should be three classes. But then that would put us in the hard number of three. I think I will think of a plan, and this plan will change how we see the witches.  
But three is a dangerous number.

I will continue to think on the matter for now.

\----------

It didn’t go fine, Lance thought as his feet pounded on the concrete ground under him. In fact, it went quite the opposite of fine. It went so un-fine that the definition of absolutely terrible outcomes would be changed to only say two words. And those words would be, “Lance McClain.” 

But beside him rushed another boy, a mulleted, raven haired, blue-gray-violet colored eyed emo name Keith Kogane. Oh, and Lance could see wherever he went, which was an odd situation for two strangers to be in admittedly.

~

Really, Lance should have sniffed the trouble the moment he exited Pidge’s family shop and was dropped in the middle of the road. The bag was situated in his arms, surprisingly light for appearing to be filled and stuffed to the brim. His hands were wound around it like a woman with a babe to her breast, and he set off in the streets. 

In a few moments, he had taken a turn away from the wooden door, leaving it from view. Placing the bag down on the ground, he picked up a pebble and figured he would have to find some way to get to Keith’s house. Even if it meant that he would be doing something ridiculously creepy, and probably against most of the Lover laws.

Oh, that was important too. He was in fact a Lover, someone tasked with being able to charm nearly anything to do his bidding. The items became talismans later, and they usually drew a surprising amount of energy from the holder. That being said, there were loopholes one could take. For example, his jacket was charmed so that his magic could regenerate faster, so that he didn’t have to wait, or be ridiculously weak when he was using his witchy-powers.

Yes, he knew it was cool, and no, he would not give the jacket to anyone else willingly. So picking up the rock and looking down at the address on the paper, he whispered words. Immediately he felt the side effects, felt a limb he didn’t know was there cramp, and eventually go numb. But when Lance saw the light blue mist of his magic form a path only he could see, a successful grin lit up his face. Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he was happy that this had worked so well. A while ago, the young adult wouldn’t have been able to do anything like this. Practicing away from his family had it’s successes. 

The words he had whispered, however, were strict.

“Guide me to Keith’s house, on 338 Aconite Lane. No one else’s, merely the person Pidge Holt had told me to go to.”

They had to be strict, or else the magic would take any loophole it could find. What could go wrong, would go wrong. It was one of the things and witch was taught at a young age, but it was especially preached to the young Lovers who were just exploring their powers. Slowly but steadily, the witch would learn to encrypt their words to find and tie every loophole. But, you couldn’t always do it correctly.

So a few seconds later, two paths formed. It was only seen in the fact that the mist solidified, and occasionally moved every few seconds. When Lance rethought his words though, he knew what he had done wrong. The rock was enchanted to lead back to Keith’s house, and Keith himself. That… that was creepy for meeting a new criminal. Well, there wasn’t much he could do for the time being. He just wouldn’t tell Keith. That’s a good idea. 

Picking up the paper bag with the ingredients in it, Lance started on his way to Keith’s house. Following the two mist streams, he hummed a song his mother sang to him. He knew in the back of his mind that he would have to get there fast. His sister needed that cure, and she needed it as fast as possible. Lance didn’t want his family to be torn apart, since they had already been torn apart once. 

He quickened his pace, almost jogging to where he needed to be. He crossed blocks, and was happy to find that the mist didn’t guide him to go through some poor soul’s living room and toilet. Walking with his mind on the task on hand and not paying attention to anything else really sped up the process. Plus, his magic was almost fully restored. He was happy to see that the jacket was working well. 

When both of the light blue guides entered the front door of an apartment building, Lance dropped the pebble into his hoodie pocket. While there was a large assortment of generally weird people in the city he lived in, it would be a good idea to not look like a person hyped on another witches illusions or created mind changes when entering a residential area he did not live in. Surprisingly enough, the mist still showed up and with a small grin of satisfaction, he started to climb the stairs.

The bag carried in his arms had been getting heavy for the past few blocks, and as Lance usually took the stairs two at a time, his legs felt rather weak. When he got to the second set of stairs, the mist led to a door. Sighing in relief, Lance walked over and set the bag down. The address matched the one Pidge had given him earlier. Good, he didn’t have the wrong door.

Making his hand into a fist, he knocked on the door, expecting a quick response. After all, both trails led here so Keith must have been inside his apartment. 

Absolute silence. 

Lance tried again, this time drumming a small pattern on it. A few moments later, the mist that was connected to Keith moved, and appeared to get closer to the door. A few moments after that, a gruff voice barked from behind the door. “Who?”

Lance paused, drawing back and staring at the door quizzically, as if he could see the person behind it. “Uhh, Doctor?”

There wasn’t a response. 

Trying again, Lance bti his lip. “Pidge sent me- she gave me a bag and told me to talk to you. It has ingredients in it, I think. I’m not really sure. It’s nothing illegal, right? Because that would look pretty bad on my record. Well, I don’t have a record- or at least I don’t think I do,” Lance rambled, almost talking to himself now. As he was muttering to himself, the apartment’s door opened, and the occupant stared at him incredulously. 

The first thing Lance noticed was the fingerless gloves. 

The second was that the string was connected to said fingerless gloves.

The third was Keith’s eyes, because wow. Wow.

“What is wrong with you?” Dreamy-Eyes asked, and Lance was immediately snapped out of it. Keith was an emo, who wore fingerless gloves like he was from the set of a movie, and had a… Was that a mullet? Yeah, okay, nevermind. Maybe the eyes were the only good thing about him. 

“Nothing? Or at least I don’t think there is. But I don’t see why it’s your business,”

Keith stared at him, a pregnant silence stretching between them. He pointed at the bag. “You’re holding my business. My literal business.”

Staring down at his hands as they pointed at him, Lance’s mouth let out a little ‘oh.’ He moved as fast as he could, shifting the bag in his grasp as he handed it to Keith. As he did so, Keith grabbed it as well, before gesturing inside. “I have to pay you right? If you wait inside I can go grab it.”

Nodding, Lance entered the apartment as Keith went to a different room in the apartment. The mist was still connected to him, and Lance regarded it, interested. He wasn’t sure if it would work on someone else, but at the same time the pebble was strictly Lance’s now. Shrugging, Lance looked around the main room he was in, and hsi gaze landed on a chalkboard. It wasn’t his place to look at everything on it, but at the same time he felt drawn to know what it was about. Honestly, it was most likely his nosy nature that was bringing him to do this.

The chalkboard was focused around a few main components that had Lance scratching his head. It mentioned the words, ‘Altea, Voltron, Threes - Fours - Fives,’ and other weird things he didn’t quite understand. At the same time, his eyes were almost magnetically drawn to the word Voltron, which was weird. He didn’t know what that was, and if it was even important. The word Altea also tugged at something in the back of his mind, but Lance was unsure if he would ever be able to tell anyone what exactly it was reminding him of. 

He took his phone out and took a picture of the board before Keith came back, so that he could look into it later. When he stepped away from it, he saw a journal sitting by the board. When Lance walked closer to it, the overwhelming feeling of powerful magic assaulted him, so he made his way closer. Just what was Keith up to here? When he extended a fingertip to touch the journal, Keith walked back into the room.

In a fluid motion as he jumped to look at Keith, Lance pocketed the journal and hid it. Keith stared at him for a moment, before walking over and handing him a letter with items inside of it. Some of it looked to be currency, while the rest of it was something Lance was unsure of. Keith tilted his head at him.

“This is the payment,” he began, glancing out at his apartment door. “When you get it to Pidge, tell her my location will move again. And… that I’ve found something.”

Lance stared at him, mouth gaping. “This is definitely illegal. Why did I get caught up in this? Why are you telling me this? Aren’t super shady people supposed to not tell random people their plans? This is bad, very bad.”

Keith glared at him. “This is not illegal, you idiot.”

“Wow, okay, rude.”

“Shut up. It’s just a project the two of us are working on, okay? But if you tell anyone, you’re dead.”

Lance stared at him. This boy was smaller than him! Albeit a little more muscly and intimidating and actually working fingerless gloves out correctly. “Okay. That’s… nice?” He said, slowly backing up into the door to get away from the angry Keith. “I’ll just,” he continued, voice cracking awkwardly, ”get going then.” He threw a backwards thumb to the door behind him, almost out of the apartment. 

Then everything blew up. 

Not exactly, honestly, it didn’t explode. It’s just that the kitchen in the room, Keith’s kitchen, had a whole bust open like a too thin clay pot being baked. And in from it, walked a man with a fake arm. Immediately, Lance felt the power from it. It had confused him earlier, when Pidge had said her potions were Lover enchanted. 

Because this arm was Lover enchanted. He could taste it in his tongue, feel it in the back of his head. The magic was pressing down on his senses, overwhelming him. Lance could almost not feel the journal in his back pocket.

This was the thing about Lover witches. They could feel the enchants. When they were small, they were hard to find. His jacket, the pebble, the potions. They were all small, and were very hard to detect. Items like the journal were on the larger scale, something that could be felt with the mind. The arm the man who had busted into the apartment with, was on a very large scale. A very scary scale as well. 

When Lance took one look at him, he turned to Keith and calmly screamed, “Run.”

So when Keith lit up a flame in his hand a burned down the chalkboard, before hurling fireballs at the invader, Lance took that as a sign to get out of there. 

Keith was close behind, and in seconds they were out into the streets. 

~

So that was how things went un-fine. But here they were now, sprinting with a probably homicidal blasting man behind them. As all things went, it was probably one of Lance’s worst days, closely followed by the time Marco had gone to college. That… that was a story for another time, honestly.

As they sprinted, Lance gasped out to Keith. “Do you know who that guy was? Because he looked pretty mad at someone, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me.”

Keith put on an extra burst of speed and bit out a quick, “Shut. Up.”

Well, okay. 

They ducked into an alleyway behind a store, close to Pidge’s family’s shop. Lance wondered if this was where they were going to end up. As they tried to catch their breath, hunched against a wall, Lance stared at Keith.

“Who was that?” he hissed, eyes fastened on the entrance to the alley. 

“I don’t know,” Keith growled back, looking up at the sky. 

When Lance felt like he had cotton in his mouth, he glanced at Keith. “Yeah, well, he’s coming back. What do you want to do?”

“Light him up?”

“No.”

“What’s your suggestion, wise guy?” 

Lance looked him over, eyes landing on his gloves. “Hey, have you ever played a video game?”

Keith glared at him. “Is this really the time to be asking that question?” 

“It is, really,” Lance said, grabbing his hand and focusing on Keith’s fingerless gloves. He knew that they would come in handy, knew that they would be useful for something. Tilting his head and drawing on the hidden, fifth limb he had, Lance whispered quick words. This could burn him out, but he was pretty sure it would be better than getting exploded by ‘Mr. I Have A Scary Arm Look At Me’.

“Turn the wearer invisible when they whisper the words, including any items the wearer has on their body. This includes trinkets, clothing, and everything that could be considered on their person. Do not change what they are touching, such as walls and floors. The words are this, Scary Arm Guy is very scary,” the drain was immediate, tugging on him and sending black spots into his eyes. It was like he had stood up too fast, but he watched as Keith turned invisible before his eyes, after repeating the words he had said with a confused expression.

Slumping against the alley wall, Lance let out a low groan, pressing fingers to his eyes. His hands wrapped around his jacket, pulling it closer as if it could recover his magic quicker. The feeling of the approaching magic grew stronger, and Lance straightened to lounge against the wall. He watched as the man turned into the alley.  
There was a grin on the man’s face, and from far away his eyes appeared to glow. They held a yellow hue, and Lance faltered. Galra. Gaining his composure though, he tilted his head. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I’m looking for a boy.” The man replied, flexing his magical arm. Lance stared at it, feeling it. He hadn’t seen anything like it before, something so powerful. So maybe that was why it felt so different. It felt like his magic, but hardened, reversed. He wanted to touch it, almost. 

Lance tilted his head. “What type of boy you looking for,” he asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “There’s a lot of boys in these areas, aren’t there?”

The man stared at him, unimpressed. “He’s probably around your age kid. In fact, you look familiar. There was a person with him when he ran,” the galra walked closer, eyes flashing dangerously. There was something about the Galra, their police force. Their eyes were always a tint of yellow, and they looked mildly like cat eyes. It was unnerving, usually, but it gave you an idea of who you were dealing with.

“I haven’t seen any boy around my age near here, sir.”

“Kid, do you know who I am?”

“You could enlighten me.”

“I’m Sergeant Sendak.”

Lance paused, this man.. He was important. That spelled bad news for Lance and Keith. His worry must have shown on his face, and Sendak continued forward. Lance couldn’t take a step backwards. “Now, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could find him, right? His name is Keith, Keith Kogane. I think you might be able to help me.” 

“Why do you want to find him?” Lance questioned, watching as the Sergeant stepped even closer. He brought a chin to hold Lance’s face. 

“I don’t think that’s important, now is it? But, you may want to be aware. I can blast you to nothing here, and no one would know. Now, you wouldn’t mind helping me, would you?” 

Lance looked down, watching as Sendak raised his prosthetic arm. There was a light forming on the bottom of it, and it was glowing purple at the seams. He tasted it in his mouth, could feel the pressure building in his ears, pinpricks tugged at the bottom of his feet. 

“I can’t help you,” It wasn’t in Lance to betray people, to turn them in. Especially when someone was threatening him. He tensed even more as the arm pressed into his stomach. He was going to die here. So he looked Sendak dead in the eye and whispered, 

“Scary Arm Guy, is very scary.”

He was promptly shot in the stomach, and passed out to the whir and smoking of machinery.  
~

“You’re telling me it just shut down?”

“I don’t know! He…. dead!”

“That’s… impossible.”

“Yeah, we’re all impossible, aren’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't reread this because i'm lazy and can't stand my own work <3


	3. In Which Lance Succeeds, But Learns That Things Aren't What They Seem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conspiracies

Allura Altea, 1239 L.E

Father has told me to talk about the current monarchy. In the grand scheme of things, of course I understand why. All nations, empires, eras must come to an end. They must also grow. So there’s a run down I’m willing to tell about, for if positions are ever removed or added in. But, in my eyes, I don’t want to write about something that I know about. Supposedly, that’s what I’ll be doing with this whole notebook, writing about stuff I already know about. It seems like a waste of time.

To start with, this is mainly a Kingdom of Altea. Although the title of monarch goes down to the heir of the ruler, king is and will be in the name. We have no reason to become a republic, or a democracy. For now, we feel the ruling family would best be suited to stay the rulers. That being said, we are able to marry into the more… not as well off families. The common people. They, of course, are married into our family and removed from living with the lower classes. Anyway, we have the queen, king, and their children, along with more family. That’s it really. In this time, only my father is alive, so we have King Alfor and his heir Princess Allura. Which is me.

Next, we have the advisor. Right now, the advisor’s name is Coran. He’s a ‘magical man’ as he might say. The advisor can be any gender, although it is recommended that they stay the same gender as they monarch they are advising. I’m not sure why this is a suggestion, as it seems differing points of view might help, but I’m not the one who is going to question it. When I’m queen though, my advisor will be a man so that I can see everything from a different point of view. 

Now we come to the Witches of Voltron. There is a lot to be said about them, so it will have to take time at a later date. For now though, it is important to know that they are our kingdom’s protectors. If we did not have them, I would be afraid of what could happen. These witches are all so powerful, their potential is unrivaled. It’s because their quintessence is so high that the artifacts will choose them. They are honored, and important. Disarray would fall if they were gone.

Lastly, it is a normal tier from here. Aristocrats, merchants, commoners. There’s so many things in those though, so there’s so many to remember. But in the basics, it would match any other kingdom or queendom. Although we are a little different. I’m still going to ask my father so that we can get two different types of mystics. But I know what else could come through. 

Those Charmers I mentioned earlier? They have more potential than anyone thought. But what would they be called?

\----------

Lance stuttered to his consciousness, catching bits and pieces as he was out. Pidge could be recognized, only because he had recently heard her voice and committed it to memory. She had a very specific voice. He caught Keith’s words as well, and that surprised him. Lance was pretty sure Keith wouldn’t have stuck around if he was killed. 

He was laying on something soft, that much was for certain. It cushioned his back and head, giving him something to sink into. Thankfully, his back wasn’t stiff, but everything hurt like absolute hell. Cracked his eyes open, Lance immediately cringed away from light that was shining down on him with an intensity never before seen. His eyes were new to life right now, having been closed for however long. It was like when you woke up after a night’s sleep, and everything was too bright and you wanted to curl up and go back to sleep, except it was magnified by two or three.

Then he remembered what had happened, and his delicate eyes were the least of his concern.

He had been shot, in the stomach, and was currently awake. That- that was impossible. No one would be able to survive that, not without some ridiculously powerful magic. The shot had been powered up, and would have gone through him. Torn his torse into pieces like he was from a film. It would have to be an enchantment prepared ahead of time, or a Mystic who knew what they were doing to be able to save him. And from what he knew, the only other non-hostile person in the area was Keith, and Lance didn’t know what his magic range was. 

He should be dead, not sitting on a bed in an unfamiliar area.

Pushing himself to sit up, the young adult groaned at how everything around him felt. It wasn’t too painful, as he had started to adjust, and when he touched his abs and stomach there wasn’t any sign of a wound. So what precisely had happened? Because Lance was sure that Sendak’s hand had powered up and had consequently shot him in the stomach. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

A voice spoke from in the room, and Pidge stood from a chair in the backroom. Lance thought it looked suspiciously like a villain’s entrance, with her emerging from the shadows with a maniacal grin. In all honesty, waking up to seeing a small person who’s smile could send shivers down his spine was not on his to-do list for the day. In fact, getting blasted (but not blasted) to smithereens wasn’t on his to-do list either. 

But he did it anyway. Apparently, stuff on his not to-do list was being done, and stuff on his to-do list wasn’t getting done. Yay.

“For a while I thought you were dead. Shock, overuse of power, that sort of thing. Because wow, you used a lot of magic in a few seconds. Really surprised you haven’t burnt out,” Pidge said approaching to where he was seated. After taking a small glance around, Lance determined it was a cot that stood a few feet off the ground. Probably a table for those who were sick, with curses or diseases. It would make sense that one would be in the Holt’s shop, as they seemed to sell cures for a lot of items. But what did she mean, that he overused his power? Surely it wasn’t from his using it on Keith’s gloves, as that had been before he had passed out.

“But from what Keith tells me, it was pretty impressive what you did. Shutting down his arm like that?” Pidge let out a whistle through her teeth, bringing a small hand up to his forehead. “Wouldn’t have believed him if I didn’t know him. But I know Keith- he never talks about things he isn’t sure about. Something about sounding like an idiot when he’s wrong,” she took her hand away from his forehead. “You still have a small fever.”

Lance stared at her, confused. “What do you mean I shut his arm down? That can’t be possible. It was-”

“Enchanted, yeah I know.” She slapped his cheek, then stuck her tongue out. “I just wanted to hit you there. Anyway, yes the arm was enchanted. And yes, you did indeed fry it’s circuits.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. Lance wasn’t sure how to read this situation. There was so much to unpack in so little time. He hadn’t been shot, but had instead broken down Sendak’s arm. That wasn’t heard of. Things that were enchanted didn’t just break down in seconds. It took time to peel away the layers of the work, and then remove it. To remove a large enchantment could take days, maybe even weeks. 

“How?” 

Pidge tilted her head at him, a look that made him feel like an insect under a microscope coming onto her face. “We have no idea.”

“We?”

“Keith, Hunk, and I. I don’t know if you know Hunk though. I doubt it.”

Nodding, Lance pushed himself to his feet, stumbling when he moved too fast. Pidge watched him, a sly grin on her face, showing all teeth. She was terrifying, there was nothing else to be said there. There was nothing else that could be said there. 

“Well, follow me. I’ll introduce you and make a break for it. I don’t want to be around when those two turn into a ‘science is my thing let me probe you with a pen’ mood..”

“Leave?” Lance asked, voice cracking at the end. What did she mean leave? She was his only line to these strangers, and he had barely known her for a whole day. That reminded him, actually. “So that potion my sister needs? When can I get it?”

“Soon, Lance. The full moon is a long way away, okay? And I’m not being a jerk, I’m just not sure when we’ll be able to get you out of the shop. Sendak can hold a grudge. Oh, and we’ve texted your mom that you were staying the night at a friend’s house.”

“How did you even get into my phone?” He was done. There was too many ‘How’s’ running around in the air for him to even focus on. His phone was locked, and his fingerprint wasn’t registered to it. It had a passcode on it and they wouldn’t be able to guess it, so they probably did some black magic that involved not telling anyone what was going on. And virgins, most likely.

Pidge smiled from ear to ear, winking at him before flouncing away. “All in due time, good sir.”

He threw his hands in the air and shuffled after her, fatigue dripping away with every step. All that was left was confusion, which would be an emotion he was sure to get used to. Everyone here was insane, and he would just learn how to deal with it. Eventually he wouldn’t be confused anymore.

Eventually.

Pidge smiled from ear to ear, winking at him before flouncing away. “All in due time, good sir.”

He threw his hands in the air and shuffled after her, fatigue dripping away with every step. All that was left was confusion, which would be an emotion he was sure to get used to. Everyone here was insane, and he would just learn how to deal with it. Eventually he wouldn’t be confused anymore.

Eventually.

~

Pidge set a grueling pace, her short legs making up for the fact that she could move them rather fast. Lance hurried behind her, cringing as every step made him uncomfortable in some semblance. At least his body pain was fading away, all that was staying was a small pressure on his mind. It felt like his magic was dampened somehow, but even that was fading. 

Movement apparently made everything go away. It was that or hurrying after a small woman who expected him to follow. 

They entered the main store room of the Holt’s shop, and he watched as Pidge waved her hand. At the back of the room, vines that had been creeping up the wall twisted away, giving view to a door. If she hadn’t done that, Lance would not have known that there was a door back there. 

He whistled appreciatively. 

Pidge stayed quiet as they walked to the door, pulling it open. She pulled the door open, not holding it for Lance, and walked into the hidden room like she owned the place. Admittedly, she did. 

When he walked in, Lance assessed the room. Here, there were doors that weren’t hidden by vines. There was a large man with brown doe-like eyes, and an orange bandana wrapped around his forehead. He seemed to be talking to the raven haired boy next to him, who Lance realised was Keith. Pidge punched Lance in the shoulder, who flinched away, then called out to the boys in the room.

“He’s awake, so you can ask your questions now. Anything you find out tell me, because I’ll be able to find something you couldn’t,” Pidge winked at them, twisting around on her heels. She pranced away, a skip in her step. Lance glared at her, then turned to the other two. They were staring back at him.

Keith’s eyes were narrowed, assessing, and Lance was reminded that he did in fact have very pretty eyes. Hunk was looking at him curiously, head tilted like a dog. Lance felt like he was being scrutinised from head to toe, watching as they drew their conclusions about what he was like. Awkwardly, he raised a hand and waved at them.

Keith huffed, glared at him, crossed his arms and pouted. Hunk made his was forward and extended his hand with an upbeat smile. “Hey! You’re Lance, right? We were kinda worried you weren’t going to make it, and that would’ve sucked. Keith told us about what you did to his gloves- that was really cool and smart of you.”

Grinning, Lance grabbed the bigger man’s hand and shook it. “Thanks for the compliment. You must be Hunk then? ‘Cause I know the emo back there,” he winked at Keith, before returning his attention back to the guy in front of him. “Pidge hasn’t really told me what’s going on, just that I didn’t die and apparently shut down Sendak’s arm.”  
Hunk’s eyes widened, and he vigorously nodded his head. He gestured to Keith over his shoulder. “Yeah! That’s pretty much what happened, actually. Keith told us that after you enchanted his gloves, when Sendak was powering up it just shut down. Apparently, there was a large shift in the magic in the air- large enough that he could feel it, just not too much- and his arm just wouldn’t work. It was in the middle of firing a ball of pure essence into you, and then it just faltered and faded out. Keith grabbed you and ran from there, after kicking Sendak straight in the knee. Then bam, you’re here.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Lance walked further into the back room. Hunk watched him, while Keith brooded from the corner. How had he moved back there? “Why aren’t you guys surprised? You’re just acting like this is a completely normal occurrence. But I’ve never heard of a witch who could control enchantments and just shut them down.”

A loud sigh came from Keith’s brooding corner as he pushed himself off of the wall. “It’s because we’ve seen stuff like it before. Pidge, Hunk, even me, we all have the same thing going on. In fact, we have ideas for what it could be.” 

Keith started to make his way over to a chalkboard pushed snuggly against the wall. When he wheeled it from against it and pushed it into the center of the room, Keith glanced at Lance. Lance took the moment to appreciate that he was still wearing the gloves he had enchanted, then took a moment to eye his fingers admiringly. He had piano fingers. 

Keith continued with what he had been doing, flipping the board so that the other side was showing. It looked vaguely familiar, and Lance squinted in thought before realizing what it reminded him of. 

“Wasn’t this in your apartment before it burned down?” Lance asked, tracing the lines and words and committing them to memory. If he was right, there was a picture of it in his phone at the current moment. Once again, he kept drifting to the word ‘Voltron’. On this board though, it was written boldly with line and circles all around it.

Keith stared at him, surprised. “You saw it?”

“Well, yea. It wasn’t hidden. It practically took up all of one of the four walls in the room.” 

Keith grumbled, while Hunk padded over to Lance, his footsteps light for a man so heavy-weighted. “Yeah. We actually have some theories involving this board, although I leave a lot of the guesswork to Keith and Pidge. It’s more of their thing to be honest, hiding in the dark and coming up with stuff. Mine is mainy cooking. But cooking is good too!”

Raising his eyebrows, and laying his elbow on Hunk’s taller shoulder, Lance awkwardly lounged against him. “Cooking is amazing, Hunk. ‘Specially when done correctly,” he stated loudly, with no room for argument. From next to the chalkboard, Keith snorted. 

“So you probably saw the big word then. Voltron?”

“Yeah. What’s up with that?”

“Not much,” was all Keith said in response, causing Lance to flare up. Not much? Evidence pointed to it being very important. Bolded words, theories, ideas. No, Keith was lying. Or he was being a jerk, which was very possible. 

“It’s only something that can take down Zarkon and his Galra forever.” 

Oh, so it was very important. And yes, Keith was being a jerk.

“So what does this have to do with me then?” Was all Lance asked in response, firmly deciding that he didn’t like Keith then and there. It had nothing to do with the way his eyes were framed perfectly, or how he managed to make a mullet work when it was a fashion crime to even think of. None of that.

It was Hunk’s turn to step forward, and his eyes brightened considerably as his voice rumbled around them. “Actually, this is where it gets kind of cool. So Voltron is this group of people, right? And they’re all like,” Hunk gestured around him, making flowy hand gestures while making ‘whoooosh’ sound effect. “Super powerful on their own, but godly when put together. But! There’s this part that gets awesome- apparently the magic is different from the common witch. Y’know, some Mystic witch being able to not only control fire, but lava, heat in your body, that kind of stuff. Like Keith over here.”

Keith waved. 

“And, well, I can control a little more than that. In theory, I could put feelings into someone’s mind. It’s another type of Mystic. But, what I can do is kind of place illusions, thoughts, ideas, into someone's head.” 

Lance stilled, rethinking everything that had happened in the past few hours. Had Hunk been digging around in his mind? 

“Before you ask, no I didn’t do anything to you. It’s kind of rude, y’know?” There was at least a hint of sarcasm in there. Lance knew it. 

Then suddenly, he knew how this included him. 

“And I can remove enchantments,” Lance said, more to himself than anyone else. That was a surprise, this was a surprise. 

“Yeah.” 

Keith brooded.

Hunk smiled at him. 

~


End file.
